


Keep on breathing

by Shadadukal



Series: What are you going to do when you are not saving the world? [3]
Category: Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadadukal/pseuds/Shadadukal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raising a kid is tough. Raising a super-powered kid comes with its own set of challenges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep on breathing

**Author's Note:**

> Like the previous fics in this series, this one can be read as a stand-alone.

Martha held her small baby boy in her arms. Clark was smiling beatifically up at her. It was hard to believe he had come here in a spaceship. How could he be an alien when he looked like any other human baby she had ever seen? 

There had been no question in her mind, nor Jonathan's, that they should keep him. They had been thinking of adopting anyway and here this perfect little baby boy had landed right into their laps. Well, in their field. It was as if Clark had been sent to them. In her heart, it felt as if he had been meant for them.

But Martha worried. Clark had such difficulty breathing. They didn't dare take him to a doctor. What if an in-depth examination revealed Clark's extraterrestrial origin? They still lived in fear of the military showing up on their doorstep. Clark might only have been with them a few short weeks but his hold on her heart was already fast. She would never be able to bear losing him; they couldn't take him from her. 

It took months, but Clark was finally able to breathe properly.

*

They said parenting was a difficult job. Martha wondered if other parents had it as tough. Right now, she was trying to convince her toddler not to run. Not for fear that he would hurt himself as she suspected other parents would. Nothing seemed to hurt Clark physically anyway. As any baby learning to walk, he had fallen on his behind, on his hands and knees more than a few times. And yet, his skin never bruised and was miraculously free of any scratches. No, her problem was that when Clark ran she couldn't keep up with him. She was amazed, because it was such a beautiful sight, but it scared her. He was so fast that she was afraid of losing him, but more importantly, she was terrified that someone would see.

"Clark, slow down."

He stopped abruptly and, wanting to turn towards her, fell on his bottom again.

"Oh my beautiful boy!" she said when she reached him, gathering him into her arms and holding him up. "You have to slow down."

"Why, Mommy?"

"Because..." She felt at a loss. She didn't want him to think that there was anything wrong with his speed, with him. Yet, he had to be careful. She wasn't sure he would understand. Most children didn't listen to their parents' safety advice until they'd been burned once. But they couldn't afford that. "Because..." She looked around her for inspiration and saw a butterfly flutter around above the rose bushes. "Look at this butterfly, honey," she said, pointing at the insect. "You have to be like the butterfly. You have to slow down to take the time to look at the world around you." Clark was frowning, eyeing the butterfly intently.

"But I like running, Mommy," he finally said.

"I know, honey, I know." She had to compromise. "But little boys can't run like you do. It's the rules. However, you can run in the house or the barn when there's no one around but me and Daddy."

Clark nodded, still frowning. He could be running in the house. After all, it wasn't as if he could hurt himself.

Two days later, looking at the Clark-shaped hole that now linked the bathroom and his bedroom, due to Clark not realising he needed distance to stop, she realised she had failed to take into account the possibility for damage to the house. Clark was completely unharmed. But he had that look in his eyes that said "I liked it and I wanna do it again".

"No, Clark," she said firmly. He pouted.

*

Clark clung to her, his tears wetting her hair and neck. He was hiccupping, but finally calming down after his panic attack. Martha couldn't imagine what he must have heard and seen but she was truly grateful to have been able to calm him down, to get him to focus and narrow his perceptions down.

Inside, her heart broke for him. It would be one more thing that would isolate him from his peers.


End file.
